Always Known
by TheDevilYouDon't
Summary: Hermione has always known. H/Hr. Set during 6th year. WARNING: Incest. But, they're drunk, so they get away with it. Review please. Rated for safety.


**Another story! Yay. **

_Always Known_

The bodies were packed too close together and it was far too hot in the common room. The music was far too loud and part of her wondered why a professor hadn't come to break up the party yet. She'd always known that Gryffindor parties were known to be wild, but never before had they been _this _wild before. Another Gryffindor victory had prompted those of the Weasley twins followers-who remained, that is-to throw the craziest party Hogwarts had seen yet.

It was probably good that she had never quite acquired a taste for punch-the muggle kind, that is-since she had seen Angelina Johnson spiking the big glass bowl filled with the stuff with two full bottles of Firewhiskey. Where the girl had gotten the alcohol from, Hermione would never know. Unfortunately, she had seen both Ginny and Ron with a cup of the liquid all night. Which was probably why the two of them were in the corner flirting and snogging one another like crazy.

Harry had been skirting the edges of the room since he had entered earlier on that night. She hadn't had a chance to talk to him since earlier on that day. Why he was avoiding everyone she didn't know. All she could tell, though, was that he would not even spare a glance in the area she happened to be standing in at the time he passed her. Maybe he had a lot on his mind. Lord knows he always did nowadays.

He was tired, she could tell. The lines under his eyes were enough to show her that he lied about getting more sleep than he actually had in the morning, or whenever she asked him. She could see the tears in his eyes whenever he stopped speaking or putting on a smile. He was thinking about all of the people he was putting in danger. Or, at least, that's what she thought. Really, he was just thinking about how he was putting the person he cared about _most_ in danger.

Harry. How could she describe him? He was the bravest person she knew. He was...famous yet shy. In being so well known, he had learned humility. How anyone could _ever_ do that, she couldn't figure out. He was gentle and kind in everything he did. He had a bright sense of humour that sometimes only she understood. He had a wonderful smile that he flashed her whenever he saw her. The only real smile he had shown in a year.

Harry had always been there for her. He'd written her with every problem he'd faced over every summer they'd spent apart. Scar twinging in pain? _'Dear Hermione, My scar is hurting again. I know I'm probably being paranoid but have you got any theories?_ When she had gotten the flu during the winter break in fourth year, he had written her twice each day until she got better. '_Dear Hermione, Feeling any better? I can always come get you. I know, I'm here at Hogwarts but I can run there and get you if you wish.'_

She worried for him. Too much, maybe. But she did. You see, Harry had been a magnet for danger since he had first come to Hogwarts and each time his life was threatened, she couldn't help but cry and scratch at herself, fidgeting until she knew he was well again. She'd been his biggest fan since she had read about him for the first time. She'd been to every single Quidditch game and practice, even the time she had come down with a cold in their third year. Sometimes, she even cried herself to sleep wondering what would happen when Harry was forced to finally face Voldemort. But, even though she worried, she knew that when he did, she would be right at his side.

He was behind her. Moving closer until his chest was pressed into her back. Even without turning around, she knew who it was. It was her best friend for six years, her biggest supporter, closest friend, the one who made her cry when away from him and blush when close to him.

"Hermione." Her name dripped from his tongue like honey. So sweet and so wonderful she felt the tears in her eyes.

"Harry." His name came out in less than a whisper; so quiet, she wasn't even sure that he had heard her.

She knew that he had heard her, though, and he put his hand on her waist and pulled her around to face him. His eyes were tired and there were purple bags under him. Despite their closeness, he seemed far too calm. She wondered briefly how he could be so serene when, on the inside, her emotions were forming a hurricane.

"I love you," he whispered, leaning in close to her face.

Her heart skipped a beat. "I've always known," she answered breathlessly.

He leaned down and pressed his cheek to her forehead and wrapped his arms around her enveloping her in warmth. She felt the tears begin to fall down her cheeks. He pulled away and looked down. His own eyes were glistening and as he leaned down again, some tears began to spill over. As each tear fell down Hermione's cheeks, he kissed them away while his own dripped down his face onto her shirt.

**Really weird. Sorry. Good concept, I think. Just came out wrong. :D**


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